


What Mick Knew

by Katyakora



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Light Angst, Losfpolyamweek, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katyakora/pseuds/Katyakora
Summary: It was a measure of how much Mick had changed,  that he saw someone suffer as he had and didn't walk away.





	What Mick Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: m/m/f
> 
> This is super late, but honestly I'm just happy I finished it.

Mick knew how it felt to lose a best friend. Perhaps that's why he took one look at the brittle smile Cisco raised for the Legends when they dropped in, and decided to drag him out with him to a bar so they could both drown their sorrows.

 

Mick knew how it felt to lose a partner. Maybe that's why, when Cisco tossed the empty whiskey bottle aside and tackled Mick, sobbing into the bigger man’s shoulder about how much he missed them, missed her, Mick didn’t push him away. Instead, he just held him, letting him cry out his pain, and maybe, just maybe, Mick let some of his own pain leak out too.

 

Mick knew how it felt to lose a soulmate. That’s why, when the wrong word sent Cisco’s fist flying into some arsehole’s nose, Mick didn’t hold him back. He joined the fray, fought at Cisco’s back as they took on all comers. He watched as Cisco beat his knuckles bloody and roared his rage at people who could never understand it. He did throw him over his shoulder and make a hasty exit when Cisco let off a blast that shattered half the bar.  

 

Mick knew how it felt to lose a piece of your sanity to the sucking void of grief. That’s what he told himself when Cisco, very drunk and still riding the adrenaline from the bar fight, grabbed Mick by the neck and dragged him down to kiss him. They were both a little bit broken, that was Mick’s excuse for kissing him back, for taking the warmth and wildness Cisco offered and returning it.

 

Mick knew how it felt to make a mistake. He knew how it felt to stare into the flames of his own destruction and yet be unable to pull away. Over the years he had learned to focus on the euphoria in the moment and accept the pain as punishment when it came later. That's why, when he had carried Cisco to a nearby safehouse and Cisco's fingers were clawing first at his clothes and then at his skin, Mick let himself get carried away in the pleasure of the moment. The pain would come later, when he inevitably woke cold and alone with a roaring hangover.

 

Cisco had hidden so much behind his mask, but Mick had been able to see the cracks and knew the pressure needed to be released before he broke. Cisco had let his despair out through his tears, his rage out through his fists, and now Mick saw his self-loathing as Cisco willingly gave himself to a man he should hate. His teeth drew blood and his fingers left bruises as he dragged Mick in for more, more, more. Mick knew what Cisco wanted. He wanted to be used, to have every dark thought he'd ever had about himself validated by this choice. He expected to be held down, to walk away bruised and battered, believing this to be no more than he deserved. Mick had already given him everything else he’d wanted but couldn't ask for, he expected him to give him this too.

 

Mick couldn't. It might have been what Cisco wanted, but it wasn't what he needed, and Mick was certain that doing so would break them both. So Mick didn't hold him down, didn't shackle him in a bruising grip. He cradled him close, firm but gentle as he mapped every inch of smooth bronze skin, enveloping the smaller man. He didn't bite, he only left trails of soft kisses and licks over Cisco's jaw and throat, finding sensitive spots that made him whine and writhe. He didn't take him rough and hard and fast, with little regard for his partner’s pleasure. Mick took his time and took him apart, using every trick he knew to push Cisco closer to the edge until he was a trembling, sobbing mess in his lap. He didn't mock or degrade him, but whispered praises and encouragement, compliments that had Cisco finally spilling his release over them both. The sight of him finally letting go, of finding peace even for a moment, was enough to send Mick tumbling after him. Neither moved as they came back down to earth, both shaking as they held each other like a lifeline.

 

It turned out Mick had needed this too, more than he had known. That's why he rocked Cisco as he began to sob into Mick's neck, made soothing noises as he babbled less than coherent apologies. He let Cisco cling to him as he got them positioned more comfortably on the bed, ignoring the mess they’d made as a problem for the morning.

 

Morning came with its promised punishment, a hangover doing battle against his skull in the name of every bottle he'd ever smashed. But his bed wasn't cold and empty. A warm body still lay draped against his side, long, dark waves matted with sweat from their activities blanketing his scars. Gentle breaths pebbled the unscarred patches on his chest, too quick to be a sleeper’s, and a curious fingertip mapped the curves and dips burned onto his pecs. This was not in the script. But then again, Mick himself had gone off-script the night before, had broken the unspoken rules. He only had himself to blame.

 

“Why?” Cisco whispered into his scars. “Why did you do that?”

 

Mick struggled through his hangover to find an answer he would accept. The fingers still idly skating across the planes of his chest were also mightily distracting.

 

“Needed it,” he rumbled finally, his shoulders rolling in an impression of a shrug. He didn’t want to move or speak too much in case it broke the fragile limbo they lay in.

 

“Me or you?”

 

A limbo of naked honesty, whispered truths in the predawn light as they lay skin to skin. Lying the way they were, Mick needed only to twist his wrist to rest his palm against the small of Cisco’s back. By contrast, the touch should have been inconsequential. But it grounded him, this wordless, tiny offer of comfort and support that was not immediately rejected.

 

“Both,” Mick answered finally, honestly.

 

Cisco nodded minutely in understanding against his chest, the slide of his hair almost enough to make Mick shiver, despite the lack of sensitivity in his scars. He didn’t move, although his fingers still skated patterns into Mick’s skin. Mick didn’t move either, he simply enjoyed the way Cisco curled against him felt something like trust. Almost without his permission, Mick’s thumb began to stroke a soothing line against the curve of his spine.

 

“Should I go?” Cisco whispered. He was clearly hesitant, his ghosting fingers faltering to curl into a fist over his sternum.

 

“Your choice, Chief,” Mick told him simply. It was important to him that Cisco knew that. What came next was entirely his choice, with nothing held nor owed. He licked his lips, some of the greed that helped lead him to a life of crime pressing him to add incentive. “If you stay, we can blame the hangover.”

 

He lay perfectly still, letting Cisco make his choice. After a long moment, Cisco lifted his head, looking Mick in the eye for the first time since they’d woken. There was something about being the sole focus of those deep, intelligent eyes, eyes that saw so much more than any man before him. Mick felt his gut clench and flutter in a sudden parade of nerves that completely blindsided him.

 

“I could stay.”

 

Cisco was afraid. That was clear in the tightness around his eyes and the slight tremor in his voice. Mick found that he didn’t like his fear. This turn they had taken was so far from anything Mick had experienced that he should have been frozen with uncertainty, and yet he felt a visceral need to take Cisco’s fear away. He raised his free hand and brought it slowly to Cisco’s jaw, watching intently as his gentle touch made that fear slide away. It took barely a tug to guide him up, to share a kiss that was not soured by pain or grief or despair. Mick didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so sweet

 

That should have been all it was. One night of grief and fury, of catharsis and release, followed by a morning of fragile trust and honesty, of hope and relief. But in time, Mick found himself drawn back into the arms of Cisco Ramon.

 

Sometimes the Waverider docked, for rest and respite with friends and loved ones, or for a fight the others couldn’t face alone. Sometimes, when Mick felt the weight of his ghosts drowning him, he took the jumpship and snuck away for a day, the rest of the crew none the wiser. Whatever the reason, however the night began, Mick always woke with a blanket of soft locks and dancing fingers on his skin. Sometimes it was like the first time, with alcohol and fire and emotions that needed some kind of outlet before they exploded. But sometimes it began quietly, with a brush of contact, a look of understanding and a nod in the direction of privacy. Sometimes it was fast and hot and needy, but more often it was slow and gentle and cherished. Those times often began quiet, hidden away to savour the company of someone who didn’t judge, who expected nothing more than what the other chose to give. Mick didn’t know how exactly Cisco became his anchor, nor how Mick became his rock, but he knew exactly when it started.

 

While he was certain Cisco had at least one confidant he’d shared their strange arrangement with, Mick had told no one. The little piece of peace he got from Cisco was his, something private that he wanted to hold onto, untainted by the influence of others.

 

_“Hey, uh...look it’s june thirtieth, and the next time you come back, just, please, make it today. I just...I need you.”_

 

Cisco’s message repeated through Mick’s mind as he touched down the jumpship. In all the time they had been doing this, Cisco had never sent him a message, never actually asked him to come before. He had sounded so raw, near breaking point, and Mick’s worry was enough to drown out the elation he felt at the thought that Cisco needed him. He didn’t get much of an explanation when he finally arrived at Cisco’s apartment, just a shaking bundle of engineer that practically threw himself at Mick the second he opened the door.

 

In the time that they had been doing this, Mick found himself capable of new and frightening levels of vulnerability. There was something about Cisco that made him feel weak and yet strong enough for that to be okay. He didn’t try to analyse it, just accepted that he’d given and received more hugs in the last few months than he had in his entire adult life. So he didn’t freeze in discomfort at the contact, he just carried Cisco over to the couch and held him until the shaking stopped. There were no tears, the poor man just seemed overwhelmed.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cisco murmured into his shirt after a time, finally gathering himself. “I don’t even know why I feel like this. I should be happy.”

 

“Hmm?” Mick prompted.

 

Cisco sighed, breathing in Mick’s scent like it calmed him.

 

“Caitlin came back.”

 

Mick fought not to flinch. He couldn’t help but recall what it was like when he had gotten Leonard back, his sorest wish come true, only to realise that he wasn’t the same man he had lost, not yet. And now Cisco had his partner back, his best friend, with no guarantee that she was the same woman he had lost. Mick’s arms tightened around him unconsciously at the thought of Cisco going through what he had, of having to make the choice to let his best friend go for their own good.

 

“You’re not happy?” he asked, wondering if maybe Cisco already had; maybe he’d seen a vision of Caitlin taking his life just like Mick had watched Leonard take his. Maybe he was too late to protect him, and had been called here to help fix the damage.

 

“It’s stupid,” Cisco muttered, squirming in a way that suggested he was embarrassed. Mick frowned at him, not understanding. Cisco looked up at him and then down again, fidgeting with the fabric of Mick’s shirt as he steeled himself. “I guess I...I’m afraid. That if Caitlin and Barry are back...you won’t come around anymore.”

 

Mick blinked, a riot of emotions rolling through his gut that he didn't have the experience to identify. It was one thing to know he was needed, it was another thing entirely to know he was wanted.

 

“Do you want me to keep comin’ around?”

 

“Yeah? Of course!”

 

“Then I will,” Mick vowed easily with a shrug. Cisco blinked at him.

 

“Really? Just like that?” he asked, his incredulous tone making Mick chuckle.

 

“I know a good thing when I see it. I’ll stick around 'til you kick me to the curb.”

 

Cisco kissed him fiercely, pulling back with a look of determination.

 

“I won't,” he swore.

 

Mick didn't answer, he just kissed him, distracting him so Cisco wouldn't see the morose acceptance in his eyes. Mick had no doubt that eventually Cisco would realise he was better off without Mick. But until that day came, Mick was happy to savour what they had.

 

Mick expected to dislike Caitlin the next time their teams inevitably joined forces, and he expected to be hated in return. He didn't expect her to seek him out, to quietly and hesitantly thank him.

 

“For what?” he grunted back with a frown.

 

“For being there for him.”

 

Mick's gaze automatically skittered across the room to where Cisco was deep in discussion with Ray and Stein. Despite their animated conversation, Cisco himself was occasionally flicking nervous glances over to where Mick and Caitlin stood.

 

“He told you?” Mick asked her quietly, a little surprised.

 

“Yeah. It was bound to come out after I asked him why he was wearing a jacket about 3 sizes too big.”

 

“Hmm. Been wondering where that went.”

 

“He wears it all the time.”

 

Mick’s lips curved up involuntarily at the thought of Cisco finding comfort from wearing his coat. He quickly smothered the reaction, but there was no way she had missed it. It was only now that Mick really looked at her, saw the way she watching him. Her stance was carefully relaxed, but her hazel eyes, so bright in her inhumanly pale face, were studying him with a hawk’s intensity.

 

“You here to tell me to back off, Frosty?” he asked, crossing his arms. She didn't scowl or look self-righteous, or react in any way he expected.

 

“No,” she answered simply. “He says you’re a different person these days, and from what I’ve seen, that’s true. You’ve been good for him.” She smiled sadly. “We were always there for each other, when one of us lost someone. I’m grateful that he had you when I wasn't able to be there for him. As long as you’re good for him, you’ll have no problems from me.”

 

“Is that a blessing or a threat?”

 

The corner of her mouth twitched, her sad smile turning into a hint of a smirk.

 

“A blessing,” she assured him, “but in saying that, he’s been hurt enough by the people he cares about.” She tilted her head and raised one frost-dusted hand, a clear warning. “So here’s hoping it never needs to be a threat,” she finished pointedly, her voice gaining a strange half-echo that made Mick think of ice caverns.

 

“Noted.” Mick found himself smirking right back. He’d seen how subdued she had been since she got her powers, a stark contrast to the fiery, defiant woman he’d first kidnapped. He’d seen a spark in her back then, something the pyromaniac in him couldn’t resist feeding and stoking. It was refreshing to see that spark once more, even in her new icy packaging. She nodded once and took a step to leave, having satisfactorily said her piece. But just like the first time they’d met, Mick couldn’t resist stoking that spark. “Hey, Frosty?”

 

She dutifully paused, looking curiously up at him. “Hmm?”

 

“Ice queen’s a good look on you.”

 

She blinked at him, clearly taken aback by his statement. An amused huff escaped her seemingly against her will and she shook her head, smiling self-deprecatingly.

 

“Well, it’s nice to know at least one person thinks so.”

 

“More than one. Trust me.”

 

Once again, she seemed taken aback, but his words still brought a little pleased smile to her lips and that spark in her eyes grew. Across the room, Cisco was openly watching them, his conversation forgotten and an unreadable expression on his face. Later, when the battle was won and Mick was able to finally slip away to the privacy of Cisco’s apartment, Cisco was finally able to feed his curiousity.

 

“So, uh, you and Caitlin seemed weirdly chummy earlier,” he broached, not bothering to attempt subtlety. Mick snorted, his hand running idly along Cisco’s naked flank, gliding along the sweat from their recent amorous exertions.

 

“Yeah, it’s all your fault. And you owe me a jacket.”

 

Cisco’s face was largely obscured by his hair, but Mick could see enough to know he was blushing. Mick pressed his nose to his crown, breathing in the scent of sweat, sex and Cisco that never failed to calm him, even when his mind was at its most tumultuous.

 

“Good, ‘cause I’m keeping that one,” Cisco informed him, attempting to use bravado to cover his embarrassment at being caught. Mick just rumbled his agreement into his hair, the lure of sleep making his eyelids heavy. “Seriously though, what were you guys talking about?”

 

“Shovel talk,” Mick rumbled with a shrug. In his arms, Cisco froze for a long second, and then abruptly twisted up onto his elbow to face him, his panic clear in his wide eyes.

 

“She, she gave you the shovel talk?” he demanded.

 

“Yeah?” Mick confirmed, peering up at Cisco in confusion.

 

“And...you’re okay with that?”

 

“Why...wouldn’t I be? She basically just gave me the nod and told me not to fuck it up.”

 

“She gave you The Nod?” Cisco asked incredulously, his voice going up an octave. Mick rubbed his eyes, resigning himself to the fact they weren’t going to be sleeping just yet.

 

“Yeah. Is this really that big of a deal to you?”

 

“Well, yeah, it’s just,” Cisco stammered, running his hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “We never talk about it. This.” He gestured between them. “And, I mean, I know what I wanted, want it to be but I didn’t want to assume. And, well, I was scared that if I came right out and asked, you might freak out. But getting the shovel talk and the nod, those kind of imply that we’re together and you’re okay with it, so does that mean that we are?” He licked his lips nervously. “Together?”

 

There was a part of Mick that wanted to freeze up, to deny it. It’s the part of him that had been trained through a lifetime of hardship to never show weakness, never show you care, never give the world something to use against you. But this was Cisco, who made him feel strong when he was at his weakest, who thrived on knowing others cared, who was fiercely loyal to those who earned it. He swallowed his nerves and met Cisco eyes.

 

“Figured it was implied when I told you I planned to stick around. Shoulda been more specific.” Mick had spent a lifetime studying fire and yet he’d never seen any flame so bright as Cisco’s smile in that moment. He practically dived back into Mick’s arms, peppering him with kisses until Mick captured his mouth in a kiss with a chuckle, astonished that he was capable of making someone this deliriously happy.

 

Mick knew how it felt to be lonely. Perhaps that’s why he never protested Caitlin’s presence encroaching on what little time he got with Cisco. The first time he’d shown up at Cisco’s to find them both on his couch watching old movies, Caitlin had offered to go, to give them some privacy. But Mick knew how painfully slow the rebuilding of their friendship had been, had seen the conflicted disappointment on Cisco’s face and the resignation on Caitlin’s and told her to sit back down. He’d sat on the couch and pulled Cisco into his side, letting him sprawl against him in the most public show of affection they’d ever shared. It had been strangely heady, to allow himself to relax and be open about their relationship in front of another, to be allowed to touch and take comfort without fear of being judged, even if their audience was the just one trusted friend who already knew.

 

Mick knew who it felt to feel like an outsider within a unit. He knew how the only way to ease that sense of isolation was to share it with another outsider. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when Caitlin began to confide in him. It began with short, inane conversations while Cisco was off getting snacks or in the bathroom, but then came a day when Mick went to Cisco’s place only to find Caitlin sitting alone in the apartment building’s hallway. He hadn’t even had to say anything, he just sat down next to her and gave her an expectant look, and it all began to spill out; all her guilt and regret and frustrations that kept holding her back, the anger and bitterness that threatened to drag her back down into the cold. He just listened, grunted the occasional comment to promote her to keep going. When Cisco came home from his errand to find them blocking the hallway, Caitlin looking lighter than she had in weeks, he wisely chose not to comment.

 

Mick unfortunately knew all too well how it felt to be a prisoner in your own mind. A lifetime struggling with mental illness and centuries as the Time Master’s puppet put him in the unique position of being able to understand what Caitlin had gone through, what she was coming to terms with now. It also put him into a position to help. He didn’t intend to at first, he simply offered what insight he could in response to Caitlin’s quiet confessions in that empty hallway. But then she had quietly thanked him the next time she saw him, and told him how his words had made things easier. He made a point of checking in with her whenever he was in Central after that, oddly resistant to the thought of her backsliding. Cisco noticed the attention Mick paid her, and made it very clear in no uncertain terms how happy he was that Mick was taking the time to help his friend.

 

Mick knew how it felt to be so starved of touch that the smallest contact could be a revelation. So he didn’t hold it against her when Caitlin inched across the space on Cisco’s couch until her shoulder just brushed Cisco’s or when she let her head rest against the back of the couch and pretended she couldn’t feel the arm Mick had stretched across there. The touch made him shiver at first, but Cisco always kept a thick blanket on the couch, probably for this very reason, and Mick favoured long-sleeved shirts anyway.

 

Mick knew how deeply Cisco loved her. That was one of the first things he’d really learned about Cisco back when this all started. He’d understood, and if he was honest with himself, in the early days the thought had sat heavy in his gut. He’d hated the idea that one day she would come back and Mick would lose the unexpected gift he’d found in Cisco. But it hadn’t taken Mick long to realise that Cisco’s heart was far too big for that to ever happen. Yes, Cisco loved Caitlin, but once Mick came to terms with the fact that Cisco cared about him, he knew that Cisco would never walk away from him unless he was forced to.

 

Mick knew Caitlin appreciated his support, knew that she accepted and now even approved of his relationship with Cisco. They tentatively considered each other friends. He knew how much she loved Cisco; he saw it in every guilty glance, in the regret with which she watched Cisco when he wasn’t looking, heard it in every wistful sigh. But what he didn’t know was how much she had come to care about Mick. Not until he got hurt.

 

Mick didn’t know what the psychotic doctor had injected him with after strapping him to the table, he only knew that he felt like he was about to explode out of his own skin. He was barely aware of his surroundings, too consumed by the heat roiling through him. He wasn’t aware that the others had come for him until he felt hands on him, warm despite his own heat on one side and beautifully, blessedly cold on the other.

 

“Cold,” he murmured, that fact the only thing his feverish brain could comprehend.

 

“I know, I’m sorry,” a sweet, echoing voice apologised. Suddenly the cold made sense, because that was Caitlin. Caitlin, of all people, had come for him. Her touch chased away some of the heat, glorious relief after what he’d been enduring. He never wanted her to let go.

 

“Just a sec, man, we’ll get you outta here,” Firestorm agreed, the owner of the hot hands revealed.

 

“No, cold,” Mick insisted, barely coherent. The second his restraints were removed he sought her out, desperately pulling her frozen form against him to cool the blaze in his blood.

 

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, wrapping her arms around him, cradling his head where it was pressed into the crook of her neck, soothingly petting his scalp. “We’ll fix this, I swear.”

 

“We need to go,” Firestorm urged them apologetically, glancing back and forth between them and the doorway. Mick felt Caitlin nod.

 

“Mick, can you stand?”

 

He didn’t answer, just attempted. His legs felt shaky, like he’d recently overworked them, and he needed to keep an arm over Caitlin’s shoulders for support. Firestorm had attempted to move in to help, but Mick had flinched away from him, unwilling to risk Firestorm reigniting the flames that Caitlin’s cold had doused. They hobbled out of the room, Firestorm walking ahead to take care of any potential threats.

  
“What...how?” Mick managed to grunt. Thankfully, Caitlin understood.

 

“Cisco had a vibe of you in trouble. We called the Waverider and they told us you’d been captured, so we convinced them to pick us up for back-up.”

 

“W-why?” It was becoming easier to think, the longer he stayed in contact with her. Her cold seeped through him, a balm to the burning pain.

 

Caitlin huffed incredulously. “We care about you, Mick. Why wouldn’t we come for you?”

 

Mick didn't respond, just let himself feel the relief that statement sent through him. They'd travelled hundreds of years into the future just to save him. Cisco, he might have expected, and his boy coming to save him made him feel ridiculously giddy. But Caitlin was an unexpected yet welcome addition. The same ties weren't there, she'd made the choice to walk into danger for him simply because she cared.

 

Mick's introspection was interrupted as the hallway opened out into a large atrium, where the rest of the Legends were locked in battle. The facility’s defenses were made up of previous recipients of the facility's services, and the Legends definitely had their hands full fighting a half a dozen metahumans.

 

Lucky for them, they had Cisco. He blasted metas let and right, used his portals to reposition their fighters as he saw fit, and he did it all with clenched teeth, radiating the anger that started a bar fight all those months ago. Firestorm leapt into the fray and even Caitlin was forced to stop supporting Mick in favour of defending them both. Mick felt the fire start to return as he slid to the floor, a fuse burning under his skin, but he didn't dare touch Caitlin, didn't want to leech her cold when she needed it to fight. As the burning overwhelmed his mind once more, he had a moment to think about how beautiful Cisco and Caitlin both were when they fought.

 

Something blasted Caitlin in the back and she went down with a cry. Across the battlefield he heard Cisco cry out to her. Sudden visceral rage drove a spike of clarity through him, and Mick staggered to his feet to face the reinforcements heading down the corridor. The fire was clawing to be let out and he was going to let it. He roared his fury at them, but instead of sound, a burst of fire erupted forth to incinerate everyone in the hallway. He had a moment to be pleasantly surprised and relieved at the pain ebbing before exhaustion pulled him unconscious.

 

Mick expected to wake up in the medbay, to Gideon's voice cheerfully informing him that whatever he’d been drugged with had been removed from his system. He wasn't expecting to wake in his bunk, a warm body on one side of him and a cool body on the other.

 

“Why aren't I in the medbay?” he rasped, his throat feeling understandably raw. It had the added benefit of keeping his voice low, in deference to his sleeping companions.

 

“It was decided that leaving you there was unnecessary as there was no more I could do for your condition,” Gideon chimed quietly. “You have been asleep for 11 hours.”

 

Mick hummed in thought and shifted so he could wrap his arms around his companions. Cisco burrowed closer despite the sweat on his brow and Caitlin sighed happily in her sleep. In the privacy of the darkness, Mick allowed himself a soft smile at the precious sight.

 

“Wha’did they do t’me?” he asked the AI.

 

“It appears they were attempting to perfect a healing serum. Unfortunately, it had unstable exothermic side effects that likely killed earlier test subjects. Thankfully, contact with Dr Snow seems to equilibriate your temperature, allowing your body to adapt slowly to the changes without burning out. We have extrapolated that after a few more hours of contact, you should suffer no more adverse effects. The serum's healing properties and some exothermic abilities will likely remain, however.”

 

Mick's eyebrows rose. Heat and healing sounded pretty good as powers went. It also explained why nothing hurt. He couldn't remember the last time nothing hurt.

 

“You’re awake…” a sleepy voice murmured blearily beside him. “Had us worried there.”  Cisco sounded exhausted, his voice hoarse, and Mick tightened the arm he had around him.

 

“Mmm. Gideon says I got powers now?”

 

“Yeah. Welcome to the Meta Club.” Cisco chuckled lowly. “Pretty sure the entire CCFD just woke up in a cold sweat with a sense of dread.”

 

Mick smirked, more at Cisco's sense of humour than anything else. “Guess you’ll just have to keep me occupied, won't ya?”

 

Cisco murmured his agreement. Mick looked down at the two heads pillowed on his chest, one pale and one dark, two incredible, powerful people who had crossed time to come to his rescue.

 

“Thanks. For coming for me.”

 

Against his side, Cisco shivered despite the heat Mick knew he exuded, and pressed himself closer.

 

“I saw you burning,” he whispered, his pain at the memory clear. “It was like a nightmare. I, _*ahem*_ may have freaked out a little. Caitlin was great, it was her idea to call the Legends.” His hand was linked with Caitlin's, the clasped limbs resting on Mick's stomach, something he only now noticed. “She threatened to ice over Star City if Sara didn't bring us on the rescue.”

 

“Frosty threatened Blondie?” Mick murmured in disbelief, surprisingly stirred by the thought. “Damn, I bet that was hot.”

 

“It kinda was,” Cisco confirmed, with wonder in his voice that suggested he was still astonished by it. “Kinda scary, too. For a second there, I thought she was gonna go full Killer Frost.”

 

Mick knew how hard Caitlin worked to maintain control over her darker side. To think she had almost lost it over him was both humbling and terrifying. Before now, he would have thought the only person capable of that would have been Cisco.

 

“Why would she do that?” he muttered in disbelief.

 

“She was worried about you,” Cisco answered, as though it was that simple, as though people worried about Mick all the time. “I was too. You really scared us, especially when you passed out after _breathing fire._ ”

 

“Sorry, Chief.”

 

“You don't gotta apologise, it's part of the gig and we know that. I’m just glad we were able to help.”

 

“Me too,” Mick responded, because he truly was immeasurably grateful they were there. “Pretty sure if Frosty hadn't come along for the ride, I’d be dead.”

 

Cisco shifted up so he could look Mick in the eye, and just watched him for a long moment, his face unreadable.

 

“Mick, Caitlin didn't just come along for the ride,” he stated seriously, “she came because she wanted to. And we both know that if it were the other way around, you’d do the same for her.” Cisco gave him an understanding, reassuring smile as Mick squirmed a little uncomfortably at the truth in his words. “It's okay to admit it. I love that you guys care about each other as much as I care about you both.”

 

Cisco’s words, said so lightly, sat heavy in Mick's mind. He swallowed thickly.

 

“But you love her,” he croaked.

 

“I do,” Cisco admitted, as open and honest as he had always been when they lay together in the dark. “And I was kind of hoping that the whole 'rushing across time to save your ass’ thing would be enough to get it through to you that I love you too.”

 

Mick didn't remember how it felt to be loved. That was one of the first things the Time Masters had stripped from him. Even then, the memories had been old, faded, relics of his naïve youth. So it was a complete surprise when it felt like the sun had just burst to life in his chest. His pulse raced and he felt like he could get into a fist fight with Supergirl and win. Unfortunately, his external reaction was to freeze and stare blankly with wide eyes.

 

“Oh god, are you freaking out? You’re freaking out, crap, I should've known. Look, you don't have to say anything, okay? Zero expectations here, zero!” Cisco babbled in a panic. “This is just me letting you know where I stand, it doesn't have to be a big thing, okay?”

 

His panic woke Caitlin, who raised her head to blink sleepily at them.

 

“Wha-”

 

“Caitlin, I think I broke him!”

 

Immediately, the haze of sleep fell away and Caitlin sat up and went into doctor mode, scanning every visible inch of Mick available.

 

“What did you do?” she demanded briskly as she noted Mick's stunned appearance.

 

“I just told him I loved him!” Cisco exclaimed helplessly. Now Caitlin was the one to turn wide, startled eyes on him. She seemed to become suddenly aware of how close she was to them, kneeling at Mick's side and leaning over him. She sat back and began to shuffle away, the loss of contact enough to jar Mick out of his shock.

 

“Where you goin’?” he grunted, reaching out to stop her with a hand on her wrist. She glanced guiltily back and forth between them.

 

“I don't want to intrude.” Her words were so soft they should have been barely audible, yet they seemed to echo through the quiet room.

 

“You never do.”

 

“You couldn't.”

 

Both Mick and Cisco spoke at once. Caitlin's lips parted in surprise as she looked back and forth between them. Mick tugged lightly on her wrist.

 

“It's okay,” he murmured, and she allowed herself to be pulled back down against his side. Mick also tucked Cisco back down on his other side, feeling some of his tension bleed out. “It's okay,” he repeated, running a soothing hand up and down their arms. They both relaxed against him and Caitlin let out a shaky breath when Cisco reached back across to take her hand once more.

 

“We’re okay,” Cisco assured her, before adding to Mick hesitantly, “we are okay, right?”

 

“Yeah, Chief. And, uh…” Mick trailed off as he tried to find words that wouldn’t stick in his throat. His hand clenched unconsciously in the fabric of Cisco’s shirt. “...it is a big deal. Means a lot.”

 

Cisco’s face split into that big, goofy grin that shone brighter than any fire. Mick let himself bask in it, in the warmth that seeped from his very bones and the calming touch of two people he had somehow helped to heal.

 

“Is this really okay?” Caitlin asked softly. “Me…being here with you two?”

 

“Do you wanna be here?” Cisco asked honestly. Caitlin nodded without lifting her head, the slide of her hair tickling Mick’s skin just like Cisco's did. Cisco gave her that megawatt smile. “Then there's nowhere else we’d rather you be. This is where you're meant to be.”

 

“Sap,” Mick accused good-naturedly, adding some levity before Caitlin started crying, overwhelmed as she was by their acceptance.

 

“Please, you love that I’m sappy so that you don't have to be.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

Caitlin giggled a little wetly at their banter, just like she had so many times before on quiet nights in Cisco’s apartment. Cisco was grinning up at him with bright, excited eyes, having heard the words Mick couldn't yet directly say.

 

Mick had learned a lot of things over the course of his life. Some good, some bad, some that kept him alive by the skin of his teeth. He had suffered, there was no denying that, and he had learned how to endure. But now he had learned how to not just endure, but to heal, not by healing himself, but by healing others. He did it by showing a broken man that he was worth cherishing, by bringing warmth to the woman who once called herself Killer Frost.

 

Mick knew a lot of things. And now he knew how to let himself be loved and love in turn.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Mick got shot up with Extremis, because why not?


End file.
